


slither, still heart.

by ghostcafes (kooscafe)



Series: kiss me on the mouth & set me free. [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV), Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, M/M, Rivalry, don't judge me i BEG this kind of started out as a crack fic but, it just spiraled! and i couldn't NOT finish it im sorry, serpent!Luke, serpent!Sunset Curve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooscafe/pseuds/ghostcafes
Summary: Luke Patterson and Archie Andrews are rivals-- enemies, the Serpent boy to the Red Circle leader both fighting far too many times to count.But what happens when fighting turns to something else?
Relationships: Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Archie Andrews/Luke Patterson, Jughead Jones/Reggie Peters, Julie Molina/Flynn
Series: kiss me on the mouth & set me free. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058474
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	slither, still heart.

**Author's Note:**

> hi<3 please don't judge me this kind of spiraled out of my control after my bestie and i talked about this and well! here we are. don't take it too seriously. they're both 18+ in this fic<3 okay bye

To say that Luke was naturally born as cunning and ambitious (some Northsider’s would deem it _ruthless_ ) as he was now wouldn’t be a stretch. 

One thing he _wasn’t_ born as, however, is an asshole. It’s just that Archie Andrews, his rival and one-time hookup (after one too many shots of vodka at one of Cheryl and Toni’s late-night parties), brought out the absolute worst in him when his mind is in a tornado of thoughts, which admittedly, is almost _always_.

Tonight, the waters in Luke’s sea-sick eyes storm relentlessly. _Battle of the Bands_ is upon them-- Sunset Curve having made it all the way to the semi-finales. Their competition was stiff, but Luke was sure they could come out on top-- Alex had been worried and bothering Willie about it for days, and Reggie got anxious to the point Jughead had to write him a five-page essay on why their band was most likely to win. 

Competition and rivalry fueled part of Luke’s drive, allowing him to never run on empty. Passion and ambition fill his tank primarily, but the sheer _rush_ of beating Archie and his stupid band (The Midnight Club, how fucking _pretentious_ ) was unlike any other drug he’d tried in his short eighteen years.

And now, the fight begins, a burning akin to the vodka soda he’d downed twenty minutes ago.

“Watch and learn, Andrews. Maybe then you can absorb some of my fucking talent,” Luke sneers, as Reggie shoves him forward onto the stage to prevent one of their infamous fights from breaking out.

Being on stage is a rush Luke could never get used to. It was part of the reason he ran away-- his small town would have never allowed him any opportunity for musical exploration, his parents tiring of seeing him fail class after class in favor of mastering the art of lyric composition. It didn’t how many times he performed, it was never good enough, _he_ was never good enough there.

But now, on this stage in the middle of New York City, running seems worth it. When the crowd screams and he sweats out the energy in droves, wet hair slicking to his forehead as the bass booms heavy and his voice rasps over the words to _Toxic Valentine_ , it’s all worth it to Luke.

The way the crowd screams louder for him than they ever do for Archie does something to him, too.

It’s over all too quickly and the adrenaline burns in Luke’s veins, sizzling beneath the surface of his rippling arms as he bows and walks off the stage, bumping shoulders with Archie as he smirks, rushing past.

The ginger boy grunts, glaring as the brunette runs down the stairs to hug his friends who await him. Most are already coupled up-- Reggie curled into Jughead’s side as his boyfriend presses a kiss to his damp lips, and Alex shyly holds Willie’s hand as he laughs at something he said. Luke pouts at the inattention-- it’s not that he’s not happy for his friends, he’s just irritated that the last time he had any time for a good fuck was when he was railing Andrews into a wall from behind. The thought makes him shudder briefly, before hands around his neck startle him.

“You were freaking _amazing_!” Julie giggles, Flynn agreeing as he spins to hug his two best girls.

“Thanks, babies,” Luke teases, accepting the serpent jacket they held onto for him and slipping it back over his broad shoulders. He’d wear it on stage, but it didn’t let him flaunt his arms-- not that he’d ever admit that, considering how much shit his friends give him already for his work-out obsession.

Rolling her eyes, Julie nods to the stage so they can watch Archie’s band. A scowl forms on Luke’s face once more, a bitter feeling crawling up his throat.

It wasn’t that Luke hadn’t _tried_ to be civil with Andrews. He really, genuinely put effort in-- smiled, offered his hand, even laid on his signature Patterson charm. It’d been post-hookup, on the Southside’s first day at Riverdale High-- tensions were high between the Serpents and the Northsiders, but Julie had been trying to mediate between the students (citing her own Serpent girlfriend, Flynn, as a reputable example of _good_ Serpents) to no avail. The Red Circle (or, as Jughead begrudgingly calls them, the Red Shits) had already turned the school against them-- lead by Archie Andrews himself. So when the new, barely 6-months post-initiation Serpent boy tried to make nice with the boy he’d hooked up with just a few nights ago, it was rejected with a humiliating, harsh rebuttal. 

From that moment, Luke Patterson hated Archie Andrews. 

Not that it was hard to do. The pretentious golden boy of Riverdale High always made it far too easy— a mistimed fight here, a feeble attempt at stopping the Serpents there. Honestly, Luke would laugh if he wasn’t so easily annoyed by almost anything that came out of that boy's mouth. 

Hence why, despite being decent at singing and even better on the guitar, The Midnight Club’s rendition of _Go Your Own Way_ sounded like nails on a chalkboard to the young lead singer. Archie’s voice was smooth, yes, but the pitch sounded off and maybe if they added a riff there—

“ _You can call it thunder, or lonely days,_ ” Archie sings out, catching Luke’s eyes in the crowd and staring into them with an intensity he hadn’t been anticipating. It wasn’t all hatred, or lust, or smoldering disdain— there was something shifting in them that made Luke’s skin crawl with an unknown sensation he hadn’t felt since he and Archie leaned against the wall together in post-coital bliss, holding each other and laughing while exchanging lazy kisses. 

Whatever it is, he snuffs out the flickering light it ignites in his heart before they crown Sunset Curve the winners of the semi-finales, and his pointed gaze finds Archie’s again. 

𓆚

For all the smoke that blows out of Luke’s mouth, he’s a sucker for his friends and whatever makes them happy.

Which is why he’s letting Flynn drag him around the local fabric store, giggling about how this was gonna be the perfect gift for Julie, and she needed Luke there for man power-- or rather, to carry around her discounted haul with his strong arms, trailing behind her like an overgrown puppy dog. Plus, Luke would be footing the bill. 

“Ooooh, that chiffon would go perfect with Julie’s--” Flynn’s rambling about the fabric she just spotted in the next aisle is cut off when they turn into it and find Archie Andrews at the end of the aisle, shoulder-to-shoulder with Betty Cooper, resident golden girl and childhood best friend of said golden boy. Not that he’s all that golden anymore-- far too many Northsider girls had started to ease up, and now _Luke_ was the brunette stallion (as Cheryl teased) they all wanted to take a ride on.

“Patterson. What’re you doing here? Robbing a fabric store seems a little low for you-- well, scratch that, nothing really seems _that_ low for you, snake,” Archie spits, no humor in his tone as he tenses up.

Narrowing his eyes, Luke steps in front of Flynn, just in case something starts. Not that he thinks Andrews or Cooper would swing on a fifteen year old girl, or that Flynn couldn’t take care of herself-- but Julie would kill him if something happened to her girlfriend, and besides that, Flynn is like a little sister to him (just as Julie is) and he’d rather die than let anything happen to one of his _people_ , his _family._

Someone like Andrews would never understand what friends meant to Luke— how Reggie, Alex, Willie and Jughead were his brothers, how Julie, Flynn, Cheryl and Toni were his sisters. The initial bond between Sunset Curve was the entire basis on their (successful) plan to run away— why stay with families who didn’t understand when they could be their _own_ family unit? A unit that grew as they met Flynn, who introduced them to Julie and Jughead and the _Serpents_ , who took in the lost rockstars and gave them a _home_. Not just physically, in the trailer park with Jug and FP, but emotionally; the bonds shared between them all, the way they seemed to slip right into the Serpents made it feel like destiny that they happened upon Riverdale in their trek away from home. 

Which is why the slander to his _home_ , his _family_? That’s the lowest blow to Luke. 

“I’m paying for it, as a gift to Flynn. I do work, you know,” Luke says curtly, remembering the gigs he books out of town in Greendale or the shifts he sometimes picks up at Pop’s. “And I’m not a criminal, you idiot.”

“I don’t exactly buy that. But regardless, this isn’t your turf— you need to stick to your side instead of trying to slide into ours,” Archie’s voice is firm, and Betty busies herself with grabbing something from the aisle. 

A tap on his shoulder alerts him that Flynn is done cutting the fabric she needs, and her pleading eyes flick over to the cashier counters. Nodding, Luke turns his back to the others, twisting his head sideways for a moment to speak in a humorous tone. 

“I don’t slide, Andrews. I prefer to slither in, didn’t you know that?”

With that, Luke doesn’t spare a glance behind him as he heads in the direction of the cashier with a _c’mon, bub_ whispered to Flynn. He wishes he could go back, could wring Andrews’ neck and teach him a lesson— but he doesn’t want to risk Flynn’s supplies. 

It’s worth it in the end, when Flynn not only gifts Julie a pretty vest the girl beams over, but also hands Luke a sleeveless leather vest, with a hand-sewn Southside Serpents logo on the back (with a slight Flynn touch, a hint of a rhinestone in the snake’s eye). 

If anybody tried to stop Luke from wearing it, he’d threaten to break their hand. 

𓆚

It’s not that his friends don’t notice the weird tension, because _fuck_ , Luke wishes they didn’t. 

“I just don’t know why you’re so _obsessed_ with Andrews, bro. It’s like—“ Reggie’s baffled, hands theatrically moving to emphasize his point, as he sat against his boyfriend’s chest from his position in said boy’s lap. “It’s like you two live for making each other’s lives a living hell. You just want to one-up him _every_ time.”

“It’s cause they need to fuck it out, bug,” Jughead jokes, laughing into his boyfriend’s neck but not tearing his eyes away from his laptop screen for one second— some article he was writing, for something Luke had honestly already forgotten after the hectic day they’d had. 

Irony is laced too deep into that statement, but Luke doesn’t utter a word of it. He just rolls his eyes, thick fingers strumming at the chords of his guitar as he re-tunes it. They didn’t know about the hookup— know of a hookup, but not who. And it would stay that way, because Luke didn’t want to think of that pretentious fucker again (or the way his lips parted in giggles when he made a joke, or how they parted to take his cock, either). 

“It’s because he’s—“

“ _Pretentious_ , we know, it’s your favorite word in the world for him,” Alex chimes in from his position on the couch, head hanging off the arm of it and upside-down features still managing to look just as (lovingly) annoyed as always. 

Pouting, Luke trains his gaze on his guitar before speaking again with a huff. 

“He’s just got this _insufferable_ hero complex. His group isn’t doing shit to save Riverdale— it’s instilling fear and violence, and the Black Hood doesn’t even care. People keep dying, and Andrews wants to keep agitating and shifting blame,” is the calculated response he settles on. “Even before then, he just hated Serpents just because of rumors. We don’t even do half the shit we’re pegged for. But god forbid the little golden boy gets off his high horse to think about people who aren’t upper middle class, right?”

“I mean, he didn’t _used_ to be so... I don’t know. So intense. I think his dad getting shot got to him.” It’s rare for Jughead to speak of his past with Archie, since the two stopped being friends well over two years ago, since that fateful summer misunderstanding and the subsequent initiation of the Serpent leader’s son. But Luke can appreciate his point of view— Jughead is _his_ best friend now, too, and he knows he wouldn't interject if he didn’t truly think it. 

“I get that, I just—“ Skilled fingers stop messing with the chords, resting his guitar on his seat as he gets up to stare out of the window into the cool autumn air. “It’s frustrating. I wish he could see how wrong he is. About all of it.”

 _About me_ , is the unspoken end that has singed every scathing remark Luke has ever told Andrews. 

It remains unsaid, like so many other things in Luke’s life.

𓆚

In hindsight, Luke should've known the night would’ve ended the way it did. Tensions within them wound too tight, pulled taut and straining not to snap apart like a rubber band stretched to its limit. It was only a matter of time before it snapped.

Snapping comes in the form of the Riverdale Rumble-- or so the idiotic mommy blogs dub it, so terrified for their children an the state of their waring town. The Red Circle finally coming up against the Serpents under the rain, the accusation of a snake being the Black Hood (it was laughable, really, because the Serpents weren’t inherently murderers-- just a little _lawless_ , Luke liked to think) requiring confrontation that would only satisfy if led with fists.

And of course, with all his irrational, self-important antics, Archie Andrews had to swing first, and swing at the current co-leader of the Serpents (alongside FP, Jughead and Sweet Pea-- more of a council, now), Luke Patterson himself.

The punch to his mouth takes Luke down into a crouch, hand coming up to his mouth to clutch at the throbbing, busted bottom lip he now sported. Shaking his head, Luke tries to dodge the commotion around him-- the brawl breaking out, the wet road making it ten times harder to get move around without falling.

“C’mon, Andrews, that all you got?” Words spit out of his bloodied mouth just like the plasma that hits the ground, Luke’s eyes blinded with rage at the action. No, _fuck no_. 

With a twist of his arm, Luke slams his elbow into Archie’s face, pleased at the slight crack he imagines it caused. He ducks a swing, then sucker punches Archie in the mouth, sending him reeling onto his knees. 

“How does that taste? Same as my cock?” Luke snarls, the anger getting to him as he towers over the redhead-- _so pretty on his knees again_ , he thinks, but Archie kicks his feet out from beneath him before he could get in another thought.

The impact hits Luke’s back, and Archie climbs on top to straddle him, decking him in the face once more with a vengeance. All Luke does is groan, before coming up to grab at Archie’s neck, trying to choke him. 

“Being on top is new for you, huh?” Spitting onto the other boy’s face, the blood-stained saliva hits Archie and Luke laughs shortly, before receiving a gut punch and then rolling him under, fist colliding with the ginger’s jaw in an instant. 

“This is a little more familiar, isn’t it?” The teasing is coming from this unacknowledged place of rage— somewhere kept locked tight, unable to be seen by even Luke himself unless it slipped through the cracks. Unfortunately, the safe is wide open now— and the droves of thoughts and petty, bitter feelings Luke has had since Andrews rejected him just for being a Serpent (even after the night they had, the way they’d connected over music, over _everything_ they talked about in their lost night) just came spilling out, stinging like venom. 

Archie’s knee disrupts Luke’s train of thought, ramming into his chest and Luke is knocked off, splashing into a puddle on the ground and barely recovering in time to block another kick, getting in a punch to the other’s side. 

It’s all a blur of fists and blood and _aching_ , of all kinds, before Luke is breaking away, legs strong enough to run from the dispersing fight and into a back alleyway. It was dark, and his sides hurt like hell, but he was in one piece— his heart yearned to go look for his brothers, for Reggie and Alex, but he stayed put in the dark corner for his own safety. He’d be left alone here, surely. He’d recover and make his way back to the trailer park, to his _home,_ and regroup in the morning. 

If only Andrews hadn’t chosen that very alleyway to collapse in, too.

“God, _fuck you_ , Patterson,” Archie barks out, barely any heat behind it.

“You already did, Andrews. Or rather-- _I_ fucked _you_ , remember?” It’s a dig just to bother the other boy, just to make him feel _something_ , _anything_ , for Luke, and he hates that.

Street lamps flicker across the street, and the rain keeps pouring— blurring the lights and keeping Luke’s long, nearly chin-length hair slick and pressed to his forehead. Their breaths are ragged, eyes searching for each other in the dim light. Figures barely noticeable in the dim light, their bulky outlines heaving with each pant that slipped from their bruised, parted lips.

It’s unsure who makes the move first, but one moment they’re both pressed against opposite walls, barely two feet apart, and all the sudden they’re meeting in the middle-- not to fight again, not _that_ way. Bruised mouths meet violently, teeth clashing as they pull on each other’s clothes. Archie’s back hits the hall and he groans, Luke swallowing the sound down greedily and pressing a purposeful hand into his side, agitating the bruises until it draws a whimper from Archie’s lips, and then he swallows that down, too.

Another tug and Archie’s front is pressed against the wall, pants down to his knees, hard cock straining against the soaked fabric. Luke’s own hand dips down under the waistband, eliciting a whine from the other boy.

“Beg for it,” Luke growls, fingers squeezing around the other’s cock, unwilling to move. The ginger boy huffs, trying to resist the urge for a moment before trying to rock into his hand.

“Please, _fuck_ , please,” Archie spits out, fingers grabbing aimlessly onto the wall in front of him.

“Please _what_?” Luke presses, fist tightening around his cock again, barely letting any friction happen just to piss him off.

“Just please fucking-- _fuck me_ !” So much desperation in just five words, it would make Luke want to laugh if his balls weren’t so blue. But that does it-- his fist moves rapidly against Archie’s cock, using the water to slick at first until precum rolls down the other’s shaft, and his fat thumb swipes through it to use as lube. The ginger is panting, moaning brokenly into the wall, trying to reach back and feel _any_ of Luke.

Removing his hand and keeping him pressed to the wall with his weight, Luke tugs down his own pants, and licks his palm, yanking out his long, thick cock to give it a few pumps. Nimble fingers reach into his wallet, pulling out the packet of bland lube he kept-- unsure of when he’d ever use it, but so _fucking_ thankful he did now. With a slight fumble, boxers are pulled down, and slicked fingers are pressed to Archie’s hole. It gives way, tense and eager, and it’s not long before he’s working two, three fingers in, the other boy panting and writhing.

Deciding the prep work was done, Luke presses the tip of his length into the other-- groaning simultaneously at the feeling. But he doesn’t let him recover-- shoving the rest in, knowing he could take it, and starting the relentless thrusting that could no doubt be heard if anybody were to pass by. It hurts his ribs, and his sides, and _everything_ , but _fuck_ , he’d been waiting to fuck Archie again since that night all those months ago, and dying to fuck the pretentious right out of him since the boy had snubbed him for his grouping.

“You like that, Andrews?” Comes Luke’s low sneer, lips pressed against the shell of Archie’s ear. “You like getting fucked raw by a Serpent? Guess you hit rock bottom, huh? Or--” A moan, as he wraps his fingers around the other’s windpipe. “Am I just the best your pathetic ass has ever had?”

There’s not even an answer, but the symphony of moans that Archie lets out in response (sweeter than any melody played by The Midnight Club, that’s for sure) do the talking for him. It isn’t long before they’re both cumming-- Luke into the boy with a stuttering of hips, and Archie onto the wall before them.

Moments pass into minutes, and then Luke’s pulling out of the boy’s sore hole, watching as the remains of their pent-up lust leak out in satisfaction. With a quiet smirk, Luke swipes off his cock in the rain, letting the water clean him off before tucking himself back into his soaked clothes. A pause, and then he’s walking toward the opening of the alley, looking around to make sure the coast was clear before glancing back at Archie. His eyes are narrowed, and pants pulled back up already, fingers fumbling at the zipper and failing due to the stinging of his knuckles. Luke chuckles.

“Have fun walking home with that limp, Andrews.”

He’s gone into the night before the other boy could mutter a smart reply.

𓆚

Having a winter dance when the town still had a murderer on the loose was, in hindsight, a bad idea in general. However, it was a _good_ idea to Luke, because when the school voted for Sunset Curve to play the dance _rather_ than The Midnight Club, it boosted his ego so much he couldn’t help but shit-talk Archie’s little band.

Of course, this led to Archie complaining to Principal Weatherbee, who then allowed _both_ Sunset Curve _and_ The Midnight Club to play, to appease Northsiders and Southsiders.

But the Serpent boys didn’t let that get them down. They scrounged together their dollars, and dressed as formal as they could for the gig-- formal for them, being dress pants, shoes, shirt, and their signature Serpent jackets (which Weatherbee could _not_ stop them from wearing at an after-school function, no matter how hard they tried). Their hairs slicked (even Luke got a haircut, chopping it back to right past his ears, and for the occasion, pushing his bangs out of his face), their ties tied, and their smiles bright and charming as ever.

Of course, while they waited around for their set to come (Archie got to open the night, since he was so eager-- a detriment, really, considering _everybody_ would be talking about the killer closing act), it was a little awkward at first. All his friends were coupled up save for Luke himself-- slow-dancing and giggling on the floor until they noticed his brief pout, and pulled him in. He spends most of the night in a strange, three-way slow dance with Reggie and Jughead that consists of more giggles and love-sick looks between the couple than anything, but their inclusion of Luke makes his heart soar and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

At one point, Luke ends up with his head on Jughead’s chest, and his arms around Reggie’s waist, as Reggie hugs his boyfriend from the side and Jughead holds them both, so they can keep dancing all together (despite their bursts of laughter as their spin, but Luke’s head is down and they can kiss over him-- not caring about the looks they receive, only caring about each other and including their best friend). The Midnight Club is playing _Warm Glow_ and Luke turns just in time to see Archie glare at him, before the gaze twists into something unknown.

Something similar to the way they gazed at each other that night of the fight, before they came together again.

It churns in Luke’s gut but he shuts his eyes, focusing on Jughead’s heartbeat and trying to convince himself that it was nothing but hatred, and a desperation to prove the boy wrong, and-- and _not_ anything else. It’s physical, it’s a _point_ to be proven. Nothing else.

Anchoring himself back into that disdain comes easy again, when their set time finally comes and the boys are walking backstage, just to be sourly greeted by Archie and his bandmates. Betty and Veronica shuffle around (they’d never been _too_ hard on the Serpents, but being friends with Archie made the girlfriends unpleasant nonetheless), leaving Archie behind as the ginger stares at the other frontman.

It burns Luke’s throat to keep in the flaming retorts he wants to spit out-- _how’s your ass? Miss my cock? What’s the glare for, Andrews, want me to fuck it out of you?_ But he restraints himself, simply grabbing his guitar and going to the stage, setting up quickly and letting the rage simmer.

“Have fun trying to follow _us_ up,” Archie sneers, jaw squared and _god_ , Luke actually laughs, humorless and mocking.

“It’s not that hard to follow up and blow out a mediocre band, Andrews.” _Like I blew out your back_ , he thinks, but physically bites his tongue and ignores the ginger boy as he gets down the stairs, and into the crowd.

They were only allowed one original on their set list-- a fact they tried to fight on, but lost. With the knowledge Andrews would supply soft songs, they went for pure rock; keeping up the bad boy image girls and guys alike swooned for. By the time the lights went back up on the stage, Luke’s tie was off, buttons undone, and signature smirk in place for the beginning of _Now or Never_ , which ended in sweat and dipped into _Rock You Like a Hurricane_ , which included a guitar solo for Reggie (who knelt by the stage toward his boyfriend, Jughead playfully rolling his eyes but unable to fully bite back his dopey grin).

“ _Once I had love, and it was a gas,_ ” Luke’s raspy falsetto rang out for the last song, forehead slicked with hair and sweat and eyes raking over the crowd of people losing their minds over him. “ _Soon turned out, had a heart of glass!”_

“ _If I fear I'm losing you it's just no good, you teasing like you do,_ ” Luke’s eyes find Archie’s, and the rage combines itself with lust, tugging at his chest and making him unable to look away. Not that the other boy dared to move his eyes away-- locked gaze unwavering, boiling over as his eyes narrow and chest rises. 

When it’s all said and done, Luke barely gets a few steps away from his bandmates offstage (who were preoccupied with their own partners) before his arm is being tugged and he’s being shoved into a supply closet, back hitting the wooden shelves in the dark so hard Luke groans.

“What the fuck is your problem--” Luke starts, voice low and anger rising until he makes out who it is that grabbed him, then it maxes out.

“You’re my fucking problem, Patterson,” Archie spits out, hand coming up to pull on Luke’s damp hair and the other boy yanks at him in turn. “Just--- fucking _stop_.”

Toxicity aside, the moment is stolen and hot and the closet is quickly filled with nothing but low moans and curses as the boys take turns getting each other off with their mouths, feeding into the vile energy they both radiate even as they fuck.

When Luke comes down Archie’s throat, he tugs the ginger boy’s hair hard enough to nearly rip it out.

They leave the closet minutes apart, tugging at their clothes and not uttering a single word.

𓆚

Another month passes, filled with snarky remarks and heated arguments, but less so. The Black Hood no longer at large, the mystery solved-- the Serpent’s _cleared_ , and that’s cause for enough celebration that Cheryl throws her first party since that one nearly a year ago, when Luke hadn’t been an official Serpent yet (or, as he mostly remembers it-- the first time he fucked Archie Andrews to tears, and it certainly wasn’t the last).

“Well if it isn’t Serpent trash,” is the first thing that comes out of Archie’s incendiary mouth when he walks into the kitchen and finds Luke there, nursing a beer and ignoring the blaring music coming from the rest of Thistlehouse. The brunette singer rolls his eyes. “Come to rob Cheryl of her liquor?”

“Why don’t you just give up, Andrews? I mean, the Serpents are innocent, and so am I--”

“I’d hardly call you _innocent_ , Patterson,” Archie snorts, but the words don’t hold as much venom as they probably should. It’s an odd thing to hear, but he doesn’t dwell on it.

“But I _am_ , at least of what you accused the Serpents of,” Luke rectifies, taking another swig of his beer-- it’s too warm for his liking but he’s swallowed worse (the thought of Alex’s cooking makes him shudder), so he shrugs it off. “The people of Riverdale know that. The Northsiders aren’t as tense anymore, and the Red Circle isn’t a _thing_ anymore. Let it _go_ , Andrews.” He sips again before laughing. “Also, Cheryl’s my _friend_ and a _Serpent_. It’d hardly be robbing her.”

A pause. “Letting it go doesn’t mean I have to _like_ you,” Archie finally replies, leaning against the fridge next to Luke and turning his head to look at him. “Besides, I get a kick out of riling you up.”

The words shoot electricity into the very marrow of Luke’s bones, getting him higher than any drug could ever have. It’s almost like a vibration, the way it courses through him-- _god_ , he hates that this pompous, hero-complex-addled boy can get him wound so tight, but he’d deal with the implications of that later.

Right now, all Luke wants to do is stare into Archie’s warm, brown eyes that remind him of the wood he throws into Serpent bonfires.

So he does.

Well, for just a few minutes, or maybe _seconds_ \-- it blurs together too much, but eventually Archie’s leaning in, palm cupping Luke’s jaw and it’s the first time since their rivalry began that their kisses aren’t borderline violent. It’s soft, and slow, and the heat kicks in a little later when Luke shifts to press Archie’s body into the fridge, one hand sneaking up under the ginger boy’s shirt to feel at his rippling torso, a content sound rising up in the back of his throat.

If they stumble into one of Cheryl’s guest rooms and part ways before everyone wakes in the morning, quietly handing each other clothing articles as they avoid each other’s gaze in an uncomfortable silence, well. That’s nobody’s business but theirs.

But it still troubles Luke how his chest races when they say goodbye.

𓆚

After that night, they didn’t go more than a week without a clandestine meeting-- it was like a switch was flipped, and all Archie could think of was _Luke Luke Luke Luke_. 

If you asked him if he got butterflies whenever the brunette guitarist batted his lashes at him and nodded toward a room, or when they would pick a fight in public just to be told to talk it out in the hall (not that there would be much talking, too preoccupied with kissing and grabbing at each other’s body to hold much of a conversation), Archie would wring your neck.

Keeping things hidden becomes more of an issue as winter break swings into full effect and there are no school activities they can skip to go fuck in some dark corner. Most times Luke finds some flimsy excuse to go to the Northside and sneak into Archie’s garage, where the boy was usually waiting for him. Few words of foreplay exchanged-- mindless bickering to fill the silence between their gasps and moans, usually.

Tonight is out of their norm. Archie’s attempting to sneak into Luke’s room in FP’s trailer, just past midnight, but finds it empty. Eyes widening, the boy ducks behind the trailer at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he supposes it wasn’t fast enough.

“Andrews?” Luke’s query comes, soft and confused. “I thought I was coming over to yours tonight.”

A nervous chuckle, and Archie is rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. My dad ended up coming home and he’s really tired, so I thought I would just come here, but if you’re not able to--”

“It’s fine,” Luke shrugs, motioning him to come over as he swings open the trailer door. “Nobody’s home, they’re all still at the bonfire I left early-- to come fuck _you_ , so show a little gratitude.” He’s smirking, and it’s only half a joke but Archie can’t help but roll his eyes and let out a scoff.

“ _You_ should thank _me_ for letting you fuck me,” he retorts, stepping into the trailer and closing the door behind himself quickly, trying to keep up with Luke who tosses his Serpent jacket onto the couch, revealing thick, rippling arms.

Last time he was here, Jughead was his friend, and Luke didn’t exist in their lives-- so the trailer was devoid of so many things that his eyes almost ached trying to catch up. Guitar cases slumped against walls, drumsticks on the table, too many shoes at the door. Little things that tipped off that not just one or two people stayed here, but five. Archie’s mind reels trying to think about living with more than three people, especially in such a tiny space. And they’re not even family.

“You guys have bonfires?” He doesn’t know why he’s making small talk all the sudden, but being in his home for the first time feels too personal not to.

“Yeah, every week. Multiple times, we all just hang out, play guitar, eat,” Luke replies, toeing off his shoes and removing his shirt, tossing it onto the tiny twin bed with a dingy comforter. “Julie usually joins when she doesn’t have homework, too. Little twerp can’t stay away from Flynn too long,” he adds, affection so clear in his tone it makes Archie’s heart speed up.

He’d never seen Luke so _calm_ , he realizes. The boy is in his element-- in his home, talking about his friends, ruffling his hair before flopping down onto his bed with a slight smile.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” Archie’s voice is soft toward Luke, for the first time in a long time. He’s peeling off his own shirt, tossing it onto the ground and sliding off his jeans with practiced ease, before coming closer to the lead singer.

“They’re my _family_ , of course I do.” There’s almost a hint of hurt in Luke’s voice, but Archie ignores it in favor of kissing his lips, and chasing the feeling away with apologies sent in kisses.

When they finish, they lay until morning in silence, holding each other. Occasionally, he’d ask a question under the guise of being tired and needing Luke to bore him to sleep; inquiries of his friends, of how Jughead was, of how it was to live in the trailer. He didn’t get much, but enough to read into the soft, loving way Luke spoke of his friends-- his _family_ , he corrects himself, because he was wrong about that.

Not for the first time, but certainly the most prominent, Archie thinks he misjudged Luke Patterson.

𓆚

Close calls were becoming more frequent, much to Luke’s chagrin. It was becoming harder to keep things a secret— coming home late every few nights, showing up with bites and hickies (not that he hadn’t punished Archie for it, which is always fun, but it is _so_ difficult to explain it away), and never having a truly good reason for flaking on his friends occasionally (a rare event, but still concerning— he tries to plan out his hookups so that they aren’t interfering with band time or Flynn’s designing sessions, or Julie’s piano experimental time, or _anything_ , but one time he flakes on Reggie’s movie night and had to get an earful from Jughead about how upset he made _his_ bug, and he’d rather not repeat that). 

It comes to a head when they’re post-gig, coming back home from a show in Greendale (their usual haunt, but now less frequent due to the band picking up speed in the big city), and Luke tries to sneak out for Archie’s house the minute everyone retreats to their rooms (or, the 2 rooms and living room setup— Jughead’s room shared with Reggie, FP on the couch, and Luke sharing with Alex when the blonde wasn’t staying at Willie’s), only to find his family in the dark with a single flashlight, staring him down. To say he screeches and jumps akin to a five-year old girl is an understatement, but Luke would never admit that. 

“What the fuck, guys?” Panting, Luke squints at the (rather humorous) scene— _everyone_ is there; Julie and Flynn sitting next to FP on the couch, who looked too sleepy to give much of a fuck, and Jughead and Reggie sharing the recliner, beside Willie and Alex who sat on the rug, leaned against one another. 

“What the fuck _you_ , Luke!” Reggie glares (or as much of a glare he could muster, when he was in his pajamas and wrapped up in his boyfriends arms). “Why are you sneaking out at two in the morning? _Again?_ What aren’t you telling us?”

Sighing dramatically, Luke drags his hand over his face and shakes his head. “It’s _nothing_ , geez, I just wanted some air, Reg—”

“Some air at this hour after an exhausting gig? Alone? In _Riverdale?_ ” Julie chimes in, eyes narrowing.

“What— okay, _one_ , I’m eighteen, I can do what I want. _Two,_ isn't it past your bedtime Jules? Why aren’t you home?” The protective big brother instinct comes out, unable to stop itself.

Julie pouts, resting her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Dad’s letting me stay at Flynn’s so technically that means I can grill you all I want, Lukey. So _spill_.”

Huffing, Luke slumps against the wall. “I don’t… Look, I don’t wanna keep things from you guys—“

“Then _don’t_ ,” interjects Jughead, a tired gaze staring him down and making him feel a little too small— he hated disappointing his friends.

“But it’s not my _place_ to talk about it, and I need you to trust me that I know what I’m doing, _please_ ,” Luke’s putting on the puppy dog eyes now, but the pleading is sincere. 

There’s silence for a moment, heavy and weighted, before Alex speaks. “Fine. But please, you— you’d tell us if you’re feeling down, or you need help, right, bub? We just.. We worry about you. You’re our family.” His voice is gentle and warm and comforting, and Luke’s heart melts to the point he shuffles across the room, sliding into Alex’s embrace (which Willie shifts into, rubbing a hand over Luke’s back) which then prompts Reggie to get up, wrapping himself over Luke’s back in a koala hug. 

“I promise. I love you guys, you know that right?” He’s never been afraid of emotions, but Luke’s checks to read at the knowledge that the secret he’s keeping is that he’s fucking his rival, and _that’s_ what’s making his poor family worry. 

That night, Luke stays, tucked into Alex’s side and with Reggie spooning him from behind, and the band’s hearts take a much needed rest, _together_. 

Dealing with Archie’s bitching over the phone the next day, about how he missed their— date? Hookup? Booty call?— _thing_ last night, is worth it. 

For his family? Anything.

𓆚

The auditorium was always empty on Thursday nights. Archie knew this simply because he would use it as a more spacious practice stage on some of those nights, or just when he needed to get away from the pressures of what his dad wanted him to do for college or a job.

The auditorium was always empty on Thursday nights, and finding Luke Patterson crying as his cracking vocal soothed aches he didn’t know existed, is not supposed to happen.

But it does.

“-- _and write in every empty space, the words I love you in replace,_ ” Luke sniffles, head hung low and legs crossed where he sits against the stage curtain, in the dark save for one lone spotlight illuminating the barest minimum. “ _Then maybe time would not erase me.”_

With a bated, held breath, Archie watches from the background as the boy cries onto his guitar, broad shoulders shaking with the weight of his sobs. He’d never seen him this vulnerable, this _broken_ , and suddenly feels shame that he suddenly knew so little of the boy who had been slowly occupying his every thought.

Slowly, he tries to approach quietly, but his foot catches on a curtain and Luke startles, head shooting up and fear in his wide, sea-blue eyes. They harden, and he puts down his guitar in favor of jumping up with a switchblade, defensive position quickly coming to the forefront.

“Who the fuck is there?” Luke spits, voice wavering.

“It’s just me, Luke,” Archie opts for his first name, for some reason he doesn’t want to think about. His voice is gentle, and warning-- it’s not to attack, but simply to _come closer_.

At the sound of his voice, Luke’s shoulders drop, switchblade tucking itself back into his jeans before he tenses up again. “What are you doing here? How--” He wipes at his cheeks, but his eyes are red enough to betray him. “How much did you hear? Or see?”

Not wanting to lie, Archie responds, “I saw you crying and singing. Is that an original? Are you-- are you okay, Patterson?”

Silence permeates the air for a few minutes, before Luke clears his throat and nods, sitting back down next to his guitar. “It’s uhm, it’s about my mom. She’s back in my old town, I-- I ran away.”

Brows furrowing, Archie comes closer, sitting on the floor next to the brunette. “Why’d you run if you miss her so bad?”

“Because--” Luke sputters, hands wringing out the hem of his shirt. “She didn’t want me to do music. She kept yelling at me about grades, and being a disappointment, and throwing my life away--” He’s getting emotional again, and Archie recognizes the fight all too well from his own life. It makes his heart ache just a little. He isn’t sure if he likes that. “I had to go. She was going to force me to quit music and I’d rather die than not play. But I know I broke her heart _and_ mine that day,” he confesses quietly.

“Isn’t-- isn’t family more worth it, though?”

Those seem to be the wrong words, because Luke is straightening up, looking at Archie with a sense of betrayal in his eyes.

“My _family_ is with me now,” his voice is naught more but a hiss. “My mom, I love her, but _family_ doesn’t make you try and give up the one thing you love just for some nine-to-five desk job you’ll kill yourself at. _Family_ understands your passion, and lets you pursue it. I love her but she… didn’t love me enough to know that, or maybe she did and wanted to press on it regardless.”

The hurt boy stands up, grabbing his guitar and shoving it in the case before swinging it over his shoulder. “I thought maybe you’d understand, since you’re a musician-- or try to be,” Luke’s voice is more venomous, now, the anger seeping back in a way that hadn’t been there for a while.

“I _do_ , I just can’t imagine running away from my parents who love me--”

“Well, my life hasn’t exactly been roses, Andrews. Sorry if it’s fucking stupid or depressing to you, but my life isn’t a Lifetime movie to stop and stare at.” He’s borderline irrational now, but he’s rushing out of the auditorium at the speed of light, ignoring Archie’s calls of _Luke!_

In the dark, sat alone, Archie’s chest burns with an unfamiliar feeling, and a wish that he didn’t ruin everything for them again.

𓆚

Apologies have always been hard for Luke-- not that he messed up often enough to shell them out, but rather, after so many years of being fucked over, he’d become more than a little numb to them.

Which is why Archie Andrews showing up to his trailer two weeks later, at midnight, strumming his guitar and trying to (keyword being _trying_ , because by god, Luke didn’t have the heart to tell him to get singing lessons anymore, not like he would have back before their affair started) serenade him, doesn’t really work for him. All Luke does is throw a wad of paper at him, which when uncrumpled, said “ _get fucking lost_.”

But Archie was nothing if not persistent, and Luke’s resolve could only be so strong when the handsome ginger he was fucking for months is trying to take any clandestine moment they get to apologize.

Cat and mouse is a game Luke tires of playing quickly, particularly when he’s already mostly over the situation. Andrews is too narrow in his view of the world, and while Luke was broadening it with every late-night conversation they whispered between lazy kisses, apparently it wasn’t enough, and that’s _fine_ . But it’s also _not_ , and Luke struggles to grapple with that fact.

Archie finally manages to corner him when school starts again-- grabbing his hand behind the bleachers and dragging him to a corner nobody could see them, warm eyes pleading and filled with something foreign that stirs up Luke’s insides.

“Are you gonna ignore me forever, Luke?” Archie starts, impatience and hurt evident in his tone, hands not leaving Luke’s. “I’m _sorry_ , I’ve said it a thousand times, and I understand if you don’t wanna do this shit anymore, but I didn’t mean to make you mad I just. I have my own issues with my mom and my family, but I should’ve realized it’s _different_ , and _you’re_ so much different than I ever realized and I--”

Blue eyes roll and soft lips silence the rambles, Luke tiring of hearing the same excuse, and too exhausted to fight anymore. Fight Andrews, fight his feelings, fight his mind. It was too much all at once and Luke wants it to _stop_.

So if he makes out with Archie Andrews under the bleachers until he hears people approaching, before leaving him rumpled and smirking? Don’t blame him.

𓆚

Getting caught was going to happen eventually, but Luke still can’t help but feel like this was the worst case scenario.

It’s Reggie who walks in, bright smile and calling out, “Hey bubs, I need to borrow your-- _OH, MY GOD!”_

At that moment, Archie’s under Luke, moaning into his pillow as the brunette fucks into him relentlessly, before heaving the door open and the scream of his bandmate make him yell, covering them with the blanket and watching as Reggie connected the dots too quickly for his liking (especially considering he was sometimes too slow in picking up other things).

“ARCHIE ANDREWS? THE GUY YOU’RE FUCKING IS ARCHIE ANDREWS?” The bassist exclaims, turning around and storming out. Luke pulls on his boxers, eyes wide as he looks over at Archie once, who gives him a nod, before he runs out after his best friend.

“Reg, wait-- I can explain!” He can’t, not _really_ , not well enough in a span of five minutes.

“Explain what? That you’re dating the guy who beat the shit out of you, hated our guts, _and_ ditched my boyfriend just because he wanted to be a Serpent?” Anger isn’t a common emotion for Reggie, and it’s not quite that _now_ \-- it’s _disappointment_ , and Luke’s heart breaks.

“I know, but he’s-- he’s changing, Reg, baby. You gotta trust me. It started as just hate fucks and stuff but he’s… different. I can’t explain it but I _feel_ it. Please, Reggie,” his pleading doesn’t feel like enough, but he grabs his friend’s hands, eyes wide with love and _begging_ for forgiveness. “I love you, I love Jug and all the Serpents. I wouldn’t choose him over you, and _I’m not_ \-- but I wouldn’t even consider him, wouldn’t go near him in a serious way, if I thought he was going to hurt you guys again.”

A beat, and then Reggie intertwines their fingers together, and looks at him with a concerned expression. “And is it? Serious, I mean?”

It takes Luke a second to answer, but his heart knows the words before his mouth utters them, soft and scared. “Maybe. I think. It’s just sex sometimes but other times, bub, it’s-- we talk for hours about nothing, and just… sit. Together.”

That seems to be enough for Reggie, who relaxes, and nods-- arms coming around to quickly squeeze his bandmate, before he proceeds to lecture Archie for an hour straight about how if he hurts Luke, he’ll kill him slowly with the rest of the Serpents.

If Luke has heart eyes for his family being protective of him while he holds Archie’s hands under the covers, well. He simply couldn’t help it.

𓆚

A year passes by in a blur, and it’s startling how things seem to change overnight. Sunset Curve kept playing gigs, and the Andrews family opened up a boxing training center for underprivileged kids, which makes Luke’s heart swell with pride.

But still, their relationship remained stagnant in hand-holds, kisses and stolen nights, despite the word having gotten around about the pair. Archie and Jughead had mended their fences-- their friendship coming together again easily after they opened up and before no time, Jughead was stealing Archie’s milkshakes as they sat across from each other in a booth at Pop’s with wide smiles.

It feels like just any other night-- sat under the starlight, with takeout from Pop’s, on a picnic blanket exchanging kisses and ignoring the elephant in the room. The chill from the air makes Luke drape his jacket over Archie’s shoulders, smirking when the boy blushes before looking back up at him with so much adoration Luke’s heart skips a beat. 

When Archie leans in and begs Luke to be his boyfriend, the brunette simply rolls his eyes-- before a smile grows on his face, brighter than the moon above, and he pulls him in for a kiss under the twilight sky.

If you’d told Luke Patterson that Archie Andrews would be his boyfriend in a little over two years, way back then, he’d have punched your lights out.

Now? Well.

Falling for the idiot, in hindsight, changes everything.


End file.
